36 weeks!
In just a short matter of weeks, our family will welcome a new member. I am absolutely in awe, but to some degree, in a bit of disbelief. Of course I have a round belly, and nightly sessions of kicks and flutters, to remind me that a real live human is growing inside me. But the reality that our life as a family of six will forever be changed, that a unrepeatable human is about to take centre stage and be ooohed and ahhed over by all who meet him or her, it's mystifying to me, really.
This pregnancy has not been as hard as some of the others. For one, my morning sickness ended more swiftly and never reached the fevered-pitch it did with some of my children.
I have had short bouts of swollen ankles and feet, but because this is my wintry-est due date, I think I've been spared the excess of that. When I was pregnant with Anna, who was born in October, August and September were just brutal for this affliction. I don't cope well with hot weather, even when I am not being incubated by another person in my torso. So I guess that's the silver lining for being 8 months pregnant in February?
The hardest symptom, though, has been my insomnia. It has come and gone in waves, with October and November threatening to push me over the brink of my sanity. That, it turns out, was triggered in large part by the quickly approaching deadline of having our atrium for CGS set up; once the room was functional, I slept well at night. Once we made the trip to Halifax for Christmas, I was wholly myself again after being looked after by my parents and in-laws (of course, it helps tremendously having my parents and in-laws look after my children, too!).
January and February have been rather miserable, weather-wise. So. many. snow days. Perhaps the most truly depressing days were when school was cancelled because it was simply too cold. How does this relate to being pregnant? Well, it means I haven't been outside in weeks, really. It's slippery and I'm clearly rather top-heavy (or should I say, mid-heavy?), there's been an insane amount of snow, and the frigid temperatures have made me house-bound for weeks on end.
God, in His infinite kindness, however, spared us from any dramatic sicknesses this winter (touch wood!).
Now I am less than four weeks from my due date. I am just awakening to the idea that some practical preparations should be made. So I ordered one of those bunting sleepsacks from Amazon, as well as some sleepers, because despite this being my fifth baby, I don't have lots in the way of clothes etc. I tend to purge most of everything, except my absolute favourite items. One thing I will never let go of, though, is a sleeper that all my babies have worn that has little trucks on it. I bought it from a thrift store for Noah when he was about a week old and I was dying to get out of the house. It felt like a "splurge" because it was literally the first thing I had spent our money on for him -- friends and family were so generous with us! -- and so picking it out, and buying it, I felt like a "real mom" for the first time. I have such fond memories of seeing him, and all my other babies in it.
(Funny aside: it's a size NB, so Elijah, the 10 pound wonder, wore it more like a cardigan than an actual sleeper, because I couldn't get it buttoned up on him!)
I also have a few freezer meals prepped, and plan to make a few more when Patrick takes a few days off over March Break and I have those Saturdays off from CGS as well.
The kids are adorably excited. It's really, really wonderful having my family grow not just in size, but in age, because each of them understand so much better the excitement and wonder that is to come. Also, because the space between Elijah and this child is the largest, he really does grasp the idea that he's going to be a big brother. It's also so cute that because he's also very tall (the 90th percentile), he is the first of my toddlers to not be able to hide under my belly when he stands up against my legs.
Unlike my previous pregnancies, I have no anxiety about birth. I agonized about "how to avoid a c-section" with Noah, and spoiler alert, had one anyway, got myself worked up about having a VBAC with Isaiah, and nicely enough, it happened and went very well. I dithered in labour with Anna and had a homebirth, which was bizarre and somewhat scary but truly, when it was all said and done, the best way to do postpartum (who doesn't prefer their own bed to a weird hospital mattress?). Then with Elijah, the birth went well, but I just weeped and was sleepless for weeks worrying about it. The pain of it all has been a keener memory each time.
So how is this different? A few ways: I've already stated that I want an epidural, something I've never done before. If I arrive late, or am feeling otherwise fine and confident (which, if you have seen me during labour, is NOT how I typically behave), then I know I can deliver without one. But planning to have one, knowing right now that there is a fairly reliable pain-management method takes the pressure off my mind.
Likewise, I have zero invested expectations or hopes in this birth. Well, I want safety and health to be priorities, but I think they always are with proper doctors and midwives around. Rather, I mean that I have no romantic notions about it being beautiful and peaceful and empowering. If it it, great, but truly the best part comes after the birth when I can just hold the baby. For once, I can definitely say that I believe the outcome of my birth has no bearing on how I see myself. There is real freedom in that for me. I have no emotional need for things to go a certain way. Really, having experienced an emergency c-section has put me in a mindset of peace and surrender to that aspect. Birth is such a blip on the radar of my experience being that child's mom. Not completely insignificant of course, I mean, you're meeting your child for the first time! but not worthy of placing such high expectations on, either.
A lot of my peace surrounding all of this can be attributed to the gift of being able to go on retreat two weeks ago. I had three days of quiet, prayer, rest, delicious food and being around other wonderful women of faith. It was just enough time to help me cast my worries and sleeplessness to Christ and ready my heart for this baby.
Oh and a friend of mine took an actually flattering picture of me while I was there so I have a could have a memory of being pregnant with this precious person, our fifth baby.
Soon enough, I'll get to meet him or her!
This pregnancy has not been as hard as some of the others. For one, my morning sickness ended more swiftly and never reached the fevered-pitch it did with some of my children.
I have had short bouts of swollen ankles and feet, but because this is my wintry-est due date, I think I've been spared the excess of that. When I was pregnant with Anna, who was born in October, August and September were just brutal for this affliction. I don't cope well with hot weather, even when I am not being incubated by another person in my torso. So I guess that's the silver lining for being 8 months pregnant in February?
The hardest symptom, though, has been my insomnia. It has come and gone in waves, with October and November threatening to push me over the brink of my sanity. That, it turns out, was triggered in large part by the quickly approaching deadline of having our atrium for CGS set up; once the room was functional, I slept well at night. Once we made the trip to Halifax for Christmas, I was wholly myself again after being looked after by my parents and in-laws (of course, it helps tremendously having my parents and in-laws look after my children, too!).
January and February have been rather miserable, weather-wise. So. many. snow days. Perhaps the most truly depressing days were when school was cancelled because it was simply too cold. How does this relate to being pregnant? Well, it means I haven't been outside in weeks, really. It's slippery and I'm clearly rather top-heavy (or should I say, mid-heavy?), there's been an insane amount of snow, and the frigid temperatures have made me house-bound for weeks on end.
God, in His infinite kindness, however, spared us from any dramatic sicknesses this winter (touch wood!).
Now I am less than four weeks from my due date. I am just awakening to the idea that some practical preparations should be made. So I ordered one of those bunting sleepsacks from Amazon, as well as some sleepers, because despite this being my fifth baby, I don't have lots in the way of clothes etc. I tend to purge most of everything, except my absolute favourite items. One thing I will never let go of, though, is a sleeper that all my babies have worn that has little trucks on it. I bought it from a thrift store for Noah when he was about a week old and I was dying to get out of the house. It felt like a "splurge" because it was literally the first thing I had spent our money on for him -- friends and family were so generous with us! -- and so picking it out, and buying it, I felt like a "real mom" for the first time. I have such fond memories of seeing him, and all my other babies in it.
(Funny aside: it's a size NB, so Elijah, the 10 pound wonder, wore it more like a cardigan than an actual sleeper, because I couldn't get it buttoned up on him!)
I also have a few freezer meals prepped, and plan to make a few more when Patrick takes a few days off over March Break and I have those Saturdays off from CGS as well.
The kids are adorably excited. It's really, really wonderful having my family grow not just in size, but in age, because each of them understand so much better the excitement and wonder that is to come. Also, because the space between Elijah and this child is the largest, he really does grasp the idea that he's going to be a big brother. It's also so cute that because he's also very tall (the 90th percentile), he is the first of my toddlers to not be able to hide under my belly when he stands up against my legs.
Unlike my previous pregnancies, I have no anxiety about birth. I agonized about "how to avoid a c-section" with Noah, and spoiler alert, had one anyway, got myself worked up about having a VBAC with Isaiah, and nicely enough, it happened and went very well. I dithered in labour with Anna and had a homebirth, which was bizarre and somewhat scary but truly, when it was all said and done, the best way to do postpartum (who doesn't prefer their own bed to a weird hospital mattress?). Then with Elijah, the birth went well, but I just weeped and was sleepless for weeks worrying about it. The pain of it all has been a keener memory each time.
So how is this different? A few ways: I've already stated that I want an epidural, something I've never done before. If I arrive late, or am feeling otherwise fine and confident (which, if you have seen me during labour, is NOT how I typically behave), then I know I can deliver without one. But planning to have one, knowing right now that there is a fairly reliable pain-management method takes the pressure off my mind.
Likewise, I have zero invested expectations or hopes in this birth. Well, I want safety and health to be priorities, but I think they always are with proper doctors and midwives around. Rather, I mean that I have no romantic notions about it being beautiful and peaceful and empowering. If it it, great, but truly the best part comes after the birth when I can just hold the baby. For once, I can definitely say that I believe the outcome of my birth has no bearing on how I see myself. There is real freedom in that for me. I have no emotional need for things to go a certain way. Really, having experienced an emergency c-section has put me in a mindset of peace and surrender to that aspect. Birth is such a blip on the radar of my experience being that child's mom. Not completely insignificant of course, I mean, you're meeting your child for the first time! but not worthy of placing such high expectations on, either.
A lot of my peace surrounding all of this can be attributed to the gift of being able to go on retreat two weeks ago. I had three days of quiet, prayer, rest, delicious food and being around other wonderful women of faith. It was just enough time to help me cast my worries and sleeplessness to Christ and ready my heart for this baby.
Oh and a friend of mine took an actually flattering picture of me while I was there so I have a could have a memory of being pregnant with this precious person, our fifth baby.
Soon enough, I'll get to meet him or her!
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